


Son, Can You Play Me a Memory?

by Cooked_Rat (orphan_account)



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Piano Man, Alternate Universe - World War II, Freddie is a matchmaker in this one too apparently, M/M, NOT slow burn because I am incapable, Oral Sex, Period-Typical Homophobia, Set somewhere in America, They're still British lol, Underage Drinking, gay bars, mentioned PTSD, no beta we die like men, this is basically love at first sight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-05 00:20:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cooked_Rat
Summary: John really was just trying to enjoy his summer vacation. His plans for relaxation were going quite well actually, that is, until Freddie dragged him out one fateful June night to a "special" pub. It wasn't really the pub that changed his plans. More like a strikingly handsome piano man who actually seemed genuinely interested in John. How could he turn down an opportunity like that? Especially since said piano man had a very interesting backstory.(I'm bad at summaries. Just read the first chapter lmao.)





	1. Zing, Zing, Zing, Went My Heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

> I have been working on this fic for moNthS. I'm so happy I'm finally getting it out there. I wanted to make sure I would have enough to upload regularly and have room to be flexible. I write terribly slowly because I have an attention span of a brick. Also, I remember when there were only like 60 John/Roger fics and now there are over 300! I love it! 
> 
> Anyways, some stuff before we get into this... thing I have created. At the beginning, John is 17, Roger is 18, and Freddie and Brian are 19. I'm not going to tag this as "underage" because in the US, the age of consent is 16-17 depending on what state you live in. If anyone has a problem with this, let me know! I'll be happy to add that tag if anyone really wants me to.  
Another thing, I never specify what their hair looks like in this fic, so you can imagine it however you want. Although, men with long hair in the 40s was extremely rare, especially with WW2 going on and everything. So I like to imagine them all with short hair, but you can image it however you want! I certainly have no qualms against them with long hair!
> 
> Also, side note, I was around half way done writing this (or so I thought, it turned out that it will probably be much longer) when I realized it was unintentionally sort of inspired by Billy Joel's "Piano man". And if you assumed that's why this fic is titled what it is... you would be right!
> 
> All of the tags will come into play at some point. Do not worry, my children. (There will be more tags added along the way as well.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As of posting this, I have around 20k words already in the bag for this fic. I'm proud of myself for that. Expect weekly updates, and maybe even earlier than that?? We shall see.

The war scared John, as it had with most other people he knew. He was too young to even think about joining, which was a relief for him and his family. He didn’t have to be pressured by anyone to join, either. It did keep him up at night just thinking about it sometimes, the terrors he heard the soldiers faced. He was only fourteen when the war started, America wasn’t completely concerned just yet, or more so, the government didn’t want to deal with a war. Especially right after The Great Depression, as they were calling it. December 7, 1941 had wedged itself into John’s sixteen year old mind. The attack on Pearl Harbor frightened everyone. It was time for America to get involved. At first, his mother was very opposed to John listening to the news on the radio about the war, wanting to keep his innocence. His father had made the argument that he needed to hear about the war, it’s better to be educated, plus he should realize how lucky they were. Soon enough, John was caught up with listening to the news about the war as well as his dad. Whenever he would try and finish his homework at the kitchen table, the crackling noise of the radio would always find its way to him, forcing its way into his brain.

Now, finally out of high school and ready to take on whatever career he could choose, he really wasn’t sure what to do. The war had finally settled with people by this point in the summer of 1943, everyone hoped it would be over soon. Although, for the people who had loved ones being hurt or killed in the war, it was a whole lot harder than anyone could imagine. They had more hope than anyone, but sometimes, they were the most bitter. Imagine if after everyone they had lost, the Allies wouldn’t win. John didn’t want to imagine that. Saying people wouldn’t be happy would be an understatement.

“You seem excited about something.” John eyed Freddie warily. He had busted through John’s front door unannounced, happily greeted by his mother from the kitchen, somehow knowing immediately it was the one and only Freddie Bulsara. He wore a huge grin, bordering on manic. John had gotten used to that look over the many summers spent together as kids, recognizing it as the face he made when he found some grand adventure to drag John along on. Freddie had graduated a year before him, claiming he was too bored without John and promising to bring him everywhere once he was finally out of school. John was just trying to enjoy his summer holiday, free from schooling for, well, however long he wanted really. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do for college yet, but it will come in time, he supposes. For now, he’d rather spend his time reading the few books he hasn’t yet, or watching whatever few choices were available on their television. He was quickly getting tired of Freddie’s various escapades he thought up. Plus, they usually involved his friends, which John wasn’t very fond of, except Brian, they got along fine. He’d much rather sit at home, helping his mother cook or clean, even talking or playing around with his younger sister, Julie. John was just about two years older than her, but they had a pretty good relationship.

“And you, my friend, seem suspicious of everything!” Freddie huffed, moving closer to the couch John was lounging on, “Come on now John, you’ve been sitting around too long. Let’s get out and do something, yeah?”

John checked his watch, “Fred, it’s nearly 9:30. Plus I only sat down twenty minutes ago.” he huffed.

“Well, now it’s time to get up.” Freddie smiled smugly, walking over to John. He reached out and snatched the book from John’s hands, ignoring his grunt of annoyance.

Freddie grabbed at John’s arms, pulling him up off the couch. At this point, there was no stopping Freddie. Trying to get out of whatever he planned would only make this last longer, and John wanted anything but that. Don’t get him wrong, he really liked spending time with Freddie, of course, he was his best friend after all. It was just the activities he chooses and people he hangs out with that really turns John away from it all.

He tugged John by the arm, towards the front door, picking up his shoes and socks he had flung by the door yesterday, and shoved them into John’s hands, ordering him to put them on. Sighing, John reluctantly did so, moving over to his father’s arm chair, slipping his socks on and tying up his shoe laces. Once finished, Freddie pulled him back up, slinging his arm over John’s shoulders and leading him into the dark night.

There was a black car parked out front, it was almost hard to find, blending in with the darkness that had settled in earlier, but the headlights made it noticeable. It was sleek and smooth, John couldn’t help but find himself a little bit jealous. The dark vehicle was nice, a bit pricey it seemed. John had always been interested in cars, he had been taught a few things by his father, knowing how to tell the difference from a piece of junk and a truly good automobile. This one was definitely a good one. John figured it belonged to one of Freddie’s friends, even though he really wanted to get into the car to see the beautiful interior, he wasn’t sure if he knew the person behind the wheel.

John couldn’t help but let his brows furrow, his mouth pressing into a thin line, expressing his concern obviously. Freddie glanced in his direction, noticing his expression in the porchlight, “It’s all right John, it’s only Brian.” he squeezed John’s shoulders in reassurance, giving him a warm smile.

John relaxed considerably at that, John liked Brian. He was pretty mature, very smart too, John doesn’t know how he came to be friends with Freddie but at least he has one good influence (aside from John, of course).

Freddie opened the backseat door for John as he went around to get in on the other side, Brian turning around in his seat to greet him. “Hey John, how’re you doing?”

“I’m fine Brian, thanks.” John nodded at Brian, giving him a friendly smile.

“Bri, we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up! He’ll be done soon.” Freddie whined.

“Yeah, alright.” Brian let out an amused huff, pulling away from the curb.

John didn’t know where they were headed, which was usual for Freddie’s little adventures. It would be easier not to ask questions, but John liked to see if he could pull an answer out of him. 

Turning towards Freddie, he asked, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” John could see Freddie’s smirk in the passing streetlights, the yellow of it casting big, dark shadows across the interior of the car, which was a lovely red leather. The interior _was_ as nice as the outside! Sighing, John turned his head, deciding he would rather look out the window than waste his time trying to get an answer out of Freddie. 

After a while, the nice neighborhoods John lived in turned into streets littered with people, bums, drunkards, prostitutes, and nightly shoppers, some small children even. He was familiar with this part of downtown, it wasn’t very friendly to say the least. Lots of pubs. Incredibly dirty, unsurprisingly. John was grateful that his parents had enough money to avoid living in parts of town like this. He recognised this street as one of the closer ones to his neighborhood that held most of the pubs and busy restaurants his friends (which just means Freddie, really) liked to visit. It was dirty with brightly lit signs and dark alleys, more than suitable for any shady activity. John’s face wrinkled into that of distaste, he really didn’t like this part of town.

Soon enough, Brian pulled off to an empty space at the side of the road.

~~~

Freddie was leading them to a building with a small, red sign. It was somewhat subtle, hiding in one of the alleys. It seemed like one of those places that would be easy to overlook, but if you knew what you were searching for, it was obvious. John thought it a bit strange, but then again, Freddie had brought him to weirder pubs than this.

There wasn’t anyone in the alley, only a buff, intimidating bouncer leaning next to the entrance. Probably to scare off any unwelcome guests, maybe to keep watch even. John wasn’t oblivious. He’s visited these kind of places before, being pulled along by Freddie as he usually was. Of course Freddie knew exactly where to find places like this, where same-sex couples could somehow live in total bliss for a few hours, not afraid of discrimination. In all honesty, John had liked men for as long as he could remember, never admitting it to anyone, of course. But somehow, Freddie could see through him, maybe he always knew, maybe he figured it out on his own. It was kind of scary, but John couldn’t help but feel entirely grateful to Freddie for not shunning him or hurting him in any way. John had even been with a few guys. It never really led anywhere, but he was… somewhat experienced. 

John doesn’t think Brian had ever swung that way (or at least he claims). He’s incredibly supportive, to John’s surprise. He’s always had some sort of liking to Freddie, it was interesting, he didn’t know if they truly were just friends as they claimed to be. But what does John know, he, himself, is clueless about a lot. For example, he still has no idea why they showed up to a place like this at this time of night.

“Freddie!” The bouncer had a huge grin on his face once they had come close enough for him to see his face. “Glad you’re back.” 

“Great to see you George. Thank you for keeping us safe.” He winked.

“My pleasure.” He stepped aside to let the three of them in, his grin never faltering. He actually seemed genuinely happy. Maybe he liked it whenever they had new customers, aside from the money bonus. John had wondered why he didn’t ask for any identification, but then remembered that Freddie was a regular at these kinds of places. Maybe he was a friend of the owners, or they were indebted to him in some way. Freddie always had his ways. Plus it wasn’t like where they were going was completely legal anyways.

John was immediately struck with the stench of cigarettes, sweat, and alcohol. Pretty normal for any pub really. The interior was a nice mix of velvety reds, purples, and browns. The lighting was dim but bright enough to be able to actually see. John had been to a few places where he basically had to feel around to get out, that, or hold onto Freddie’s hand and beg him to let them leave. The one thing that really made this place stand out from the “normal” pubs he had been to, was the various and numerous same-sex couples spread across the floor, and coupled near bars and tables. It brought a smile to John’s face, glad that people like them could find some happiness in a world that was wrought with fear for the war, and for being different. It was a scary place. It was good they could find comfort. It made him a little sad too, knowing that they could never really be themselves in public, even with people they had known their whole lives. 

It was fairly busy, obviously a more popular hangout. John also noticed some upbeat piano music coming from somewhere in the room. It was bright and energetic, harmonious and happy. It actually made John want to join the people on the dancefloor, letting the music take over him and groove to the tinkly piano.

Freddie nudged him in the side, “Come on, let’s go watch him. He’s almost finished.” he said excitedly, beginning to weave his way through the crowd.

John followed suit, followed by Brian. He had been relatively quiet this whole time, which didn’t bug John, he was quiet too. The dance floor was crowded, even more so towards the edge of the stage, where John could only guess the pianist was putting on an incredible show. As they made their way to the front (ignoring shouts of annoyance and irritated glares), John noticed people smiling and cheering and whistling, practically everyone was clapping or moving to the beat he had set. It was interesting and exciting to see so many people swayed and enticed by this pianists music.

Not to mention, this guy seemed to have it all. Once Freddie pushed them to the front, they had to squish together to be able to see him in all his glory. He had blonde, bordering on light brown, hair that was styled and slicked back. He was wearing a neat white button down shirt, kept perfectly in place by his suspenders. John couldn’t remember finding anyone in a bow tie as attractive as he found this man, _ever_. Now he really knew what all the clapping was for. Somehow, he had the looks _and_ the talent, managing to grab everyone’s attention. Even some of the ladies couldn’t look away. Some watched with jealousy, others probably hoped they could hop in the sheets with him. John really couldn’t argue with either of those reasons.

“Holy…” John muttered. He was utterly and completely beyond entranced at this point. He could _feel_ Freddie’s knowing smile burning into the side of his face. Unfortunately, he couldn’t turn his head to check, being a little preoccupied at the moment.

He could hear Freddie chuckle next to him. John had to join in, it was bizarre but felt so natural. That’s how he always felt about liking other men. Everyone says it’s bad and wrong and _evil_, but how could it be so if it felt this normal? He didn’t understand how people could be so cruel to each other. 

The man ended with a slide of his fingers along the keys, turning to the crowd and smiling. It made everyone melt, the crowd erupted in applause and whoops. He stood up, bowing deeply, and turned to walk off the stage with a huge grin. He knew what he was doing, he knew the people loved and wanted him. John thought someone would have to be blind and deaf to not understand how much everyone enjoyed him, and how much he knew they did. John joined in with the cheering and clapping, turning to Freddie and Brian who had begun to clap as well. He shot Freddie a baffled look and silently thanked him for bringing him tonight. Freddie just grinned back, clapping even harder.

Freddie turned to Brian and told him something John couldn’t hear over the lasting applause. Brian responded and nodded, turning to try and get back out of the crowd.

“What’s he doing?”

“Getting drinks. Come on, let’s find a table.” He replied with an impish smile. When John was younger, he probably would have worried what Freddie was planning, but he’s gotten used to it at this point.

Deciding to play along, John rolled his eyes, faking annoyance. “I suppose that’s alright.” He sighed, smiling when Freddie shook his head, starting to make his way back through the crowd. John snickered, following Freddie dutifully.

He led them to a table at the very back of the pub. It seemed a bit darker than the rest of the room, it reminded him of the pub from the outside, how it could be easily overlooked. John tried not to think too much into it and sat down across from Freddie, making small talk and chatting about their day. It was taking Brian a little longer than expected to pick up drinks, being gone for nearly eight minutes he would guess, but the pub was pretty packed. Just as John started talking about a new book he had picked up (which Freddie didn’t seem too excited about hearing anyways), he was interrupted by Brian sliding in next to him, setting down four identical drinks on the table. How Brian managed to carry all four of those from the bar and over to their dark table, John had no idea. He was more confused as to why he had bought four in the first place, shooting him a confused look. Last time he checked, there was only three of them.

Before he could ask why there was an extra, another person slid into the booth next to Freddie. At first John was taken aback that someone random had sat at their table, shooting a wary glance at Freddie, who only smirked and raised his eyebrows. _Of course_. He wouldn’t get an answer out of him. As he looked back at the stranger, the confusion turned into surprise. It was the piano man.

He graciously took one of the glasses Brian had set down, who apparently did not notice or care that John was very close to dying. All John could do was bring the glass to his mouth, trying to busy himself with something. Honestly, the man was obviously well loved here at this pub, it was practically like meeting a celebrity! Aside from the _meeting_ part, because they weren’t really talking. John just sipped slowly, hoping the blonde man would just overlook him. It appeared to be going well enough, it seemed he hadn’t even noticed John yet, reaching out for a glass and taking a drink.

Freddie cleared his throat, “Well, Roger, this is my mate John.”

“Oh, right.” Roger wiped his hand on his pants, getting rid of the condensation from the glass, “Good to meet you, Freddie’s told me a lot about you.” he stuck his hand out at John across the table.

John, who had been watching from the over the top of his glass, trying to calm his racing heart, lowered the drink. He took his empty hand and grabbed Roger’s, giving his hand a firm shake. It was hard not to smile back when Roger shot him a warm grin, so he gave in. It doesn’t hurt to indulge yourself every now and then, right?

“You did incredible tonight Rog.” Brian said, once they had released hands.

“Thanks.” He smiled appreciatively, “That might have been one of the biggest crowds I’ve had.”

Brian whistled long and low, “I wouldn’t doubt it. How long were you up there?”

He shrugged, “I’m not sure. I kind of lost track of time.”

~~~

They talked for a good while, anything from Roger’s performance, the beer, their plans for the future, and whatever came to their minds. To John’s surprise, it wasn’t all that awkward. He actually talked quite a bit, even though there was someone new he didn’t know at all joining in. It probably helped that Brian and Freddie knew him. Roger fit into their little group seamlessly. It was weird, but John welcomed it warmly, anything to make it easier to find friends. John tried not to think beyond that, almost positive Roger wouldn’t want anything more from him. But he could allow himself to hope, couldn’t he? No, that could never end too well.

What he could tell though, was that Roger was a good enough guy. He seemed genuine. People like that are pretty hard to come by. He also noticed that he could see the companionship between Brian and Roger already there and fairly strong. It reassured his feelings about Roger being a nice person. Maybe this was one of Freddie’s surprises that actually benefited him. He really hoped so.

John could notice Roger looking at him from across the table, even when he, himself, wasn’t talking. It wasn’t like John hadn’t been doing the same thing, but he’s never had any attention like that before. Well, in the past he had to work for it. He really didn’t think Roger wanted anything from him, but those looks he gave John kind of contradicted that thought, didn’t they. Whenever they would make eye contact, Roger gave him a small smile, one that John found himself returning every time. Maybe it was okay for him to get his hopes up this once.

Eventually, some ensemble of people carrying various instruments had strolled on stage, beginning to play some funky, jazzy song. Yet again, it made John want to get up and dance. He was a bit surprised by how good the music there was, unlike some other pubs he had been to.

Roger had seemed to take notice of this, sending him a curious look before it turned into recognition. “Want to dance, John?” 

John thought about it, he really did. But dancing in front of people was kind of nerve wracking. John understood they weren’t paying any attention to him at all, but that doesn’t just make the feeling go away. Plus John only just met Roger. He seemed nice enough, but what if he really isn’t?

His mum had always said that stepping out of his comfort zone would help with his anxiousness around social situations, eventually he would get so used to the feeling that it would fade into the background. She would say that it’s good for him to do things like that, get better at being around people.

He sighed and nodded his head, giving Roger a shy smile. “Sure.”

Roger grinned, motioning for Brian to stand up to let John out. Brian gave him a questioning look, turning into pride when John gave him a reassuring smile. They got out of the booth and made their way to the dance floor.

Roger grabbed his wrist and started on his way towards the middle of the room. Roger was a head turner, no doubt, his handsome looks (bordering on pretty, John would say, although, no man would like to be called pretty, he assumed). His clothes were relatively normal, maybe a bit more spruced up than some of the people there, he was trying to put on a show after all. People would look over and smile at him, some winking even. It unnerved John a bit, especially when they would look from Roger to him with a confused expression, probably wondering why he had chosen him out of the whole pub. It made his cheeks heat and made him put his head down, deciding it would be better to focus on the floor. 

When they got to the area where people were really _dancing_, Roger turned to John with an animated grin, which _sadly_ turned confused when John didn’t smile back. It really was a shame, his smile was so amazing. John thought he probably looked like a deer in headlights at this point. It was hard enough to be in a big crowd, even harder to dance, especially with Roger watching too.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just… not one for big crowds.” John chuckled humorlessly. But once he looked up at Roger, he felt a little bit better. That was enough. Under the lights, Roger had the most dashing blue eyes he had ever seen. John continued to be amazed by him, and yet curious as well. John felt like he could seep into those eyes and find little curiosities everywhere he looked. Now, Roger had a sad smile on his face and John really didn’t think it suited him well..

“I used to be like that too, you know.” His gaze was hazily locked with John’s, like he was remembering something from a far off place. “But it got better. It gets better.” He snapped out of his reverie then, truly looking at John now. “Plus, I’m here. You trust me right?”

“Well, any friend of Freddie’s is a friend of mine, I guess.” He scoffed.

Roger snickered, “You don’t sound too happy about that.” as he began to sway and tap his feet to the beat.

John sighed, “Well, not about you, you know. It’s just- sometimes, _most of the time_, Freddie hangs out with these assholes that… really aren’t all that nice. Up to no good, I tell him.” he frowned.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve met them.” Roger shook his head. “Real pieces of work.”

John nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. 

“Although you could say the same about us.” When John shot him a questioning look, Roger continued, “Up to no good.” he smirked.

John smiled back, breaking it by laughing. “I suppose so.”

Roger started to make bigger moves to the music, looking over at John to try and get him to join in. He was good at getting people to loosen up, John found. John _was_ more relaxed than when they first entered the main part of the dance floor. John sighed, giving in, _again_. Roger was here, he was with people who didn’t judge others for trying to express or be themselves.

John was trying to let himself go, to get over his foolish fear of social interactions. He started to move, using his arms and legs to feel the music. Roger grinned at him, moving closer and bumping shoulders with him. John could only chuckle and lean in closer. He felt _good_. He would seriously need to thank Freddie once this was over.

Dancing as freely as he wanted came easier as time went on. He liked the loud brass and thumping of the bass, sliding his feet and moving his body. Throughout the songs the band played, John and Roger couldn’t stop smiling at one another, feeding off of the other’s energy.

Once the band wrapped up their last song, Roger asked John if he smoked.

“Sometimes.”

Roger nodded towards the back, “There’s a door to an alley back there. It’s easier to light up without worrying about catching someone's hair on fire.” he chuckled.

John nodded and laughed, gesturing for Roger to lead the way. 

Once they reached the alley, Roger pulled a cigarette packet from one of his pant pockets. He offered one to John, who took it with a “thanks”, and put his own between his lips.

He lit John’s first, motioning for him to move closer in order to do so. Roger lit his own afterwards.

They didn’t talk much, but the silence was comfortable. Which was odd for John but everything about Roger seemed pleasantly new and different. John didn’t smoke much, but enjoyed it when he did. He really only picked it up when Freddie had started doing it, he didn’t see the point in doing it when he wasn’t nervous or upset, but apparently Freddie did.

“I’m playing here again Friday night.” He turned to look at John from where he had previously been staring at the wall across from them, lost in thought, John assumed. He didn’t think he did it multiple times because John was boring, but because he had a lot on his mind. Roger thought a lot, John noticed.

“Really?” John took another drag, trying not to get excited that Roger was inviting him to come watch him play. Maybe he was just striking up a conversation.

“Yeah,” he bit his lip, “it would be nice if you could come.”

John’s smile was soft, a fluttery feeling in his stomach. He didn’t care that he was acting like a bit of a blushing virgin, which… well, he was, but not as innocent as people originally think of him. “Of course.”

Roger gave him a boyish grin back, the excitement he could obviously feel crackled into John as well, breaking his promise to himself that he wouldn’t get excited. Roger was a chance to try something new, he reminded himself.

“It starts at 9:00.”

This is going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think so far! I need validation ksdjflkwhn
> 
> Also, I've been watching RocketMan on repeat and that is peak human evolution.
> 
> The chapter title is from "The Trolley Song" by Judy Garland and let me tell you... my love for Judy is unmatched.


	2. I'd Murder That Son-of-a-Gun in the First Degree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Mr. Ratty is Bad at Angst, enjoy your stay.
> 
> Oh! Also! It gets steamy. I've never written smut before, be nice.
> 
> Perfectly balanced, as all things should be. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I don't like this chapter very much because it seems choppy and weird to me. But I swear it picks up, just you wait. As of right now, I'm at around 26k. I don't plan on stopping anytime soon... so stick with me!
> 
> Also, thank you all for the comments, kudos, and bookmarks! It all really makes it worth it to share this work with you guys :). Critiques and questions are always accepted and taken into consideration!

“How was tonight?” Freddie asked once he had situated himself in the car, smelling of smoke and alcohol. He was definitely tipsy. John couldn’t say he was faring too well either, but he wasn’t so inebriated he would forget tonight. He doesn’t think he ever could.

It didn’t take much thought for John to answer, “Really good.” he said breathlessly, leaning his head against the back of the seat. He closed his eyes when Freddie snickered, smiling to himself. 

“I knew you’d like him, dear.” John could _hear_ the playful smirk Freddie was wearing. He didn’t care. He was happy Freddie dragged him along. John would thank him later, maybe after Roger’s next performance. John’s eyes snapped open. Oh _shit_.

“Fred,” 

“Hm?” Freddie lifted his head from where it was resting on the window, turning to look at John.

“He asked me to watch him on Friday. That’s _two days_ from now.” He whined, not daring to hide his nervousness, Freddie would catch on anyways.

“He did?” He asked, seemingly thrilled. “You’re going aren’t you?”

“Well, _yes_ but-”

“But _nothing_, John. You’re going to go and you're going to have the time of your life.” Freddie assured.

John knew he was right, he just wasn’t sure how much he would be able to hold back if they were alone again. All John could do was nod and lay his head back to where it was before. Now staring out the window of the car, he was incredibly grateful Brian had been their ride tonight, and had actually stayed sober.

He was also grateful that his family was asleep when he got home. He wasn’t very inclined to tell his parents or little sister where he had been. His parents didn’t care much how he spent his time anyways, they probably would care if they really knew where he went and what he likes. Although, John knew Freddie had taken care of everything, no doubt with his natural charm. Plus, he was just about the only person who would actually get John to leave the house. John really should get a job soon, that’s one way to get out more.

Slipping off his shoes and socks by the front door, John made his way to the kitchen, hopefully to grab a glass of water before he finally went to sleep. He had to hold in a gasp when he rounded the corner and saw Julie eating at the island.

She scrunched up her face when she saw him, plugging her nose exaggeratedly. “God, where have you been? I can smell you from here.”

John just rolled his eyes and chuckled, “None of your business.” he teased.

“What? Now you have me even more curious.”

John poured himself some water, nearly filling it to the brim before gulping almost half of it down. Smirking, he shrugged and made his way back out of the kitchen and up the stairs, much to his sister's dismay if her whine of annoyance was anything to go by, but he was happy to finally be on his way to his soft and welcoming bed.

~~~

Now the waiting game had begun. It was also a time to plan and think. How would John get back? He was definitely going to drink a generous amount of alcohol. His nerves were going to rattle at him inside his chest the moment he started driving towards the pub. John felt hopeless. And yet, it felt good. Hopefully Roger would invite him to stay the night because he had no inclination to drive back home beyond drunk. What other reason would Roger have for inviting him out again?

Aside from being stressed and anxious, John was ecstatic. A very handsome, very _talented man_ had interest in him! Boring old John with his plain brown hair and average looks. Even his clothes blended in, his sweater vests and slacks. But Roger had taken interest. John was anything but disappointed. It certainly helped that Roger was friends with Freddie, even more so that he was friends with Brian, who seemed to choose his friends carefully and keep the ones he liked close. It was a big reassurance. 

~~~

Freddie had called him after John had finished having dinner with his family. His dad had gotten off work early, liking to try and spend as much time with his family as he could. It made John happy how well their family had gotten along over the years, knowing other people had family struggles. Freddie had argued with his parents a fair amount, that was one of the reasons he had moved out, or at least that’s what he told John.

“Make the most of tonight.” Freddie had told him through the phone, “Although you’ll probably have a lot more chances to _get it on_ if it goes well.” he snickered.

John had to turn his head so his mother and sister, who were currently washing the dishes yet obviously trying to listen into the conversation, couldn’t see the flush that had most definitely covered his checks. Especially hiding from Julie, who kept glancing over at him. He would probably try and find any source of entertainment if he was stuck cleaning the dishes as well.

“Thanks for the words of encouragement, Freddie.” He whispered sarcastically. “I appreciate it a whole _lot_.”

“Of course, anything for you, dear.” John rolled his eyes, huffing out a bit of laughter. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. You better ring me later and tell me what happens.”

“I will.”

“Oh! I almost forgot. I should probably give you Rog’s telephone number. Lord knows you’ll be too shy to ask for it.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” He laughed self-deprecatingly, “I just need a piece of paper, hang on.” He set the phone’s handset down on the counter, off to grab a piece of paper from one of the many cabinets in the kitchen, a pen too. 

“Hey, Freddie.” John turned sharply, seeing Julie with the handset resting between her check and shoulder, steadily drying her hands with a rag.

“Good, how are you?” She asked with a smile.

This only made John chuckle to himself, he really didn’t need his sister to grow an even bigger crush on his best friend. Right now though, nothing could really get him down… except nerves maybe, but he was trying very hard not to focus on those. John didn’t even know when her infatuation with Freddie had started. It was probably his charm and forwardness that had won her over. But then again, she was a sixteen year old girl, what else was she supposed to do than obsess over boys? Or well, girls too if she felt so inclined. John wasn’t one to judge.

He taped Julie on her shoulder, a pen and paper in his other hand. John smiled knowingly when she turned her head, rolling her eyes with a small smile when he raised his eyebrows. “I’ll talk to you later.” she spoke into the phone.

She handed the phone off with a giggle, scurrying back over to their mother at the sink. He raised the handset to his ear, “You really should stop teasing her.” he said with a smile that betrayed his words.

“Aw, there’s no harm in it.” He said nonchalantly, John just hoped Julie didn’t get her hopes up. “Anyways! His phone number.”

“Yes.” John readied his pen and paper, scribbling down the numbers Freddie told him. He thanked Freddie, who wished him luck, and hung up. He involuntarily smiled down at the numbers before him, catching himself (hopefully) before his mum or sister had noticed. He didn’t look over to check, instead rushing up the stairs to tuck the paper somewhere safe and unforgettable, knowing he would probably need it soon.

He strolled back down to the living room, hoping to resume the reading of one of the books he had started a while back. Maybe even write a poem or two, he quite enjoyed doing that. Poetry had been something he picked up in his last few years of schooling. He would like to think he had gotten quite good at it. Julie had agreed, saying he had a way with words, although he was pretty introverted. If he could actually focus, maybe he would be able to do one of those things. His father was sat in an armchair, reading the newspaper he hadn't gotten to finish that morning. The radio was playing some smooth jazz on a low setting. John's life felt so normal yet so bizarre at the same time...

~~~

John had spent nearly an hour out of the two and a half he had, talking to his dad. Sometimes he would point out something about the war in the paper, either about the Germans or the Japanese, but once the topic would come up, they would usually shut it down pretty quickly. It wasn't like they were trying to ignore it, but John really didn't want to get in a bad mood before hanging out with Roger. They talked about cars and music and all different types of things. It was nice.

The rest of the time, he spent reading, trying to get his nerves under control. It wasn’t very effective, but he made it through a few chapters. He considered that as a success.

Once the clock struck around 8:20, he set his book down on the coffee table, grabbing his keys and putting his shoes on swiftly. His father had questioned where he was going, John couldn't remember the excuse he made, but he was sure his dad hadn't bought it. Oh well, maybe he'll explain later. Probably not. This wasn’t the kind of thing you would talk to your parents about.

“Are you going out?” His mum had asked from where she was sitting at the dining room table, skimming through a magazine. John had his hand on the door knob, so close to leaving.

“Uhh, yeah.” He responded, keeping his back to her, hoping she wouldn’t ask anymore questions. John doesn’t want to lie to her but… he would probably have to.

After a small, but it felt like centuries, pause, his mother responded, “Alright, don’t stay out too late.” He heard her flip a page of the magazine, returning to reading.

John let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. He twisted the knob and shut the door behind him, not bothering to lock it knowing his mum makes sure to check that it is every night.

He starts up his car with ease, running on anxiety and giddiness. Yeah, he probably wasn’t going to be home anytime soon.

~~~

He pulled off the road, quickly making his way to the alley way the pub was hidden in. John was conflicted between speeding up to catch all of Roger's performance, or slowing down due to nerves. In the end, he chose to speed up.

He turned the corner, the alley looked the same, no real surprise there. And to John’s relief, the same bouncer from a few days ago was stationed outside the door yet again. As he came closer, the bouncer (George, he remembered his name was) seemed to recognise him, smiling like he did that night.

“Ah, one of Freddie’s friends, right?”

“Yes, actually.” John tried not to sound amazed by the fact that he had actually remembered. Not a lot of people remember John.

“You seemed surprised that I remember you.” He chuckled, “Yeah, I’m good with faces, I guess.”

“I’d say so.” John huffed out a laugh. He guesses he kind of has to know who to let in and who to keep out. 

“Well, any friend of Freddie’s is always welcome. As long as they don’t cause trouble.” It was less of a threat towards John and more of an acknowledgment that a lot of people hate clubs like this, and _want_ to cause trouble. It’s a shame.

George moved out of the way, opening the door for John, “Have a good time!” he called out as John stepped in, closing the door behind him.

The pub was practically the same as Wednesday night, packed full of same-sex couples, if not even busier, if that was possible. The smell was the same as well, which was expected. John swallowed hard, trying not to focus on the crowd, and rather the closest bar he could find.

He ordered a beer, not really picky at this point in time. John just wanted any kind of buzz. 

Once he was nearly half of the way through his drink, someone had approached the microphone on stage and began introducing a new act. If he timed his arrival right, this should be Roger.

“And now introducing, a new favorite of ours and yours too I’m sure, Roger Taylor!”

The announcer left the stage as the pub erupted in cheers and applause, turning heads of the people seated at the bars and tables. John had set his beer on the counter to clap as well, not able to keep his grin off his face.

Roger strolled out with a wide smile. His outfit was nearly the same as it was a few nights ago, except this time his bow tie was a different color. It was an interesting touch, only people who watch him frequently would probably notice. John quite liked it. His hair wasn’t slicked back this time, making him look younger in a sense. It was wilder and freer and John _loved_ it.

He sat himself down at the piano, situated his fingers above the keys, and leaned into the microphone, “We’re going to start off with something a bit jumpy tonight. This is one of my personal favorites, nice and fast. Beat Me Daddy, Eight to the Bar.” he smiled as everyone cheered. Roger leaned back to his original position and once everyone had quieted down, began plinking on the keys.

John had only heard this song a few times before, on the radio usually, maybe he’s caught his sister singing it before. It was fast like he said, and energetic and animated. And _yes_, it made John want to get up and dance. He took a big swig from his glass, bouncing his knee up and down to the beat. John could only assume there were other instruments in the song, but Roger needed _none_ of them. It was astonishing, really, how lively and fun he could make the song. Sometimes he would turn his head to the crowd and smile, maybe searching for approval or just to see how much they were enjoying his music. It only egged him on, making him play harder and happier, it seemed like. It made John grin just watching. He had a way to connect with the crowd, to make them forget all their worries for a short while. Even John, he probably looked crazy, grinning from ear to ear, but he didn’t care much. And when he started _singing_? John was totally entranced. It was like the first night, but even better. His voice was angelic, husky yet smooth. It was so enchanting and wonderful that John couldn’t imagine how Roger managed to be so incredible at what he does, and stay humble and kind like he had been on Wednesday night. He really needs to step up his game if he wants to keep Roger’s attention. He doesn’t really consider himself talented, but he'll find something.

~~~

Roger had played more songs after that, any from a bit slower paced to ones with no lyrics at all. Every one of them had John’s full attention, the way his piano leaped from one song to another, it had John waiting with bated breath. He was done with his third beer once Roger had finished. He had a steady buzz going at this point and if he continued the pace he was at, he would be on the road to drunk in no time. Roger bowed as he did last time, all smiles, and strolled off-stage. John was eager to talk with Roger, full of anticipation to do so. The alcohol had washed away a good amount of his anxiety. For some reason, after Roger’s playing, he was a lot less scared of talking to him, maybe because of that weird connection he seemed to establish with everyone in the pub. All he knows is that he _really_ hopes he can go home with Roger tonight.

John had just ordered his fourth beer, when someone plopped down into the seat next to him, “Hey, stranger.” he recognized his voice instantly, turning to him with a full on grin.

“Roger, _why_ didn’t you tell me you could sing like that?”

“I thought it would be a fun surprise.” He chuckled.

“I don't think it would have changed much. I'm practically smitten with you already.” John shook his head, sipping his beer.

“Mmm, I’d hope so.” He laughed, calling over the bartender to order a beer. “How many have you had?” He asked John.

“Uhm, three? I'm pretty sure this is my fourth one.”

Roger’s eyebrows shot up, “God, I’ll need to catch up with you, then.” laughing at how loose and relaxed John seemed. “Are you drunk already?”

“You know, I’m not so sure.”

~~~

They talked for a long time. It was easy to talk to Roger, he was funny and charismatic, no doubt an incredible guy. Roger had admitted to being a bit hot-headed, it didn’t matter much to John though. They talked about how John was putting off applying to college for various reasons, Roger just thinks that they have their whole lives ahead of them to work on finding a career, why not have a bit of fun before you start. John liked his way of thinking. The conversation switched to discussing how exactly Freddie had managed to find all these weird places. This pub was probably one of the most normal things he had dragged John to. Roger had revealed Wednesday night, as they had all been talking, that he was only nineteen, so both of them weren’t really meant to be there, but were anyways.

Somehow (when they were both relatively drunk), the topic had found itself on a discussion on whether John wanted to head back to a hotel near the pub that Roger had rented earlier. John accepted probably a little too quickly and a little too eagerly, causing Roger to chuckle warmly and endear him with a compliment. It was beyond sweet.

So there they were, walking down the sidewalk, gripping onto each other to keep from falling over, when John had remembered his car.

“Oh shit. No one will break into my car will they?”

“No, it’ll be fine. We can come get it in the morning.” Roger waved it off. The “we” leaving a warm feeling in John’s stomach.

They laughed at the dullest and most random things on their way, drawing people’s attention, although they didn’t really seem to care. The people walking around at night were probably used to drunk people all the time. John was glad that Roger knew where he was going because he probably wouldn’t be able to get back to his car without help the next day. He really wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings, focusing instead on Roger and his cheery laugh. 

Whatever “check-in” at the hotel Roger had gone through was a total blur to John. The next thing he knew, they were entering the hotel room. It had a large bed, and a door to the bathroom. That was all that was there, excluding a suitcase with a few envelopes piled on top of it, but John wasn’t really focused on that. Their mouths were on each other just as the door closed, battling for space in each others mouths. It was messy and fast, but if John wasn’t drunk off of alcohol, he was absolutely drunk off of Roger’s mouth and tongue. They were tangled together, Roger pushing him against the wall and crowding into his space. Roger palmed him through his pants as he trailed kisses from his chin to what he could reach of his shoulder, unbuttoning his shirt and sucking a mark under his collar bone. John found his hands wound in Roger’s hair, trailing through the unbelievable softness.

In a fit of confidence, John flips them so now Roger is pinned to the wall. John brought their mouths together once again, cupping the back of his neck with one hand and trailing down his body with the other. Roger’s suspenders had slipped off his shoulders in the action, making it easier to unbutton his trousers and reach in. Roger kept a firm grip on John’s waist as John stroked him to full hardness, only letting go to loosen his bow tie shakily and unbutton the first few buttons at the top of his shirt. John stopped kissing him, Roger chasing his mouth as he pulled away, and looked into his eyes for some kind of confirmation. Roger nodded, out of breath from their kissing.

John lowered himself down to his knees, making himself level with Roger’s cock. It seemed that everything about Roger was perfect, and even as dirty as it sounds, so was his dick. He grabbed it at the base, looking up at Roger through his lashes. His face was covered in anticipation, which made John smile. It had to be some kind of fever dream, or the alcohol was making him hallucinate.

John wrapped his lips around the head, shoving his free hand into his own trousers and pulling his cock out to stroke himself. He really wasn’t as innocent as some people thought he was, he’s friends with Freddie after all. Of course he has done stuff like this before, maybe not very often, but he's experienced enough.

He moved his hand along with his mouth as he bobbed back and forth, letting Roger grip his hair and guide him. It didn’t take very long for either of them to climax, the alcohol loosening them up considerably. John had made a mess in his hand, which was as expected (and _yes_ John did swallow). Roger helped him stand up, buttoning his pants as he smiled at John.

“That was amazing.”

John smiled back, “I agree.”

Roger moved towards the bed, rifling through his pockets. John opened the door to the bathroom, cleaning off his hands because he, like any sensible human being, didn't want dried spunk on his hand. John had found Roger sitting on the bed, a cigarette burning between his lips. John stripped off his shirt, leaving his under shirt on. He took off his pants as well, getting comfortable. Roger left his clothes on, slipping off his bowtie and getting up to grab them cups of water from the bathroom sink. John took the offered cup with gratitude, the taste after sucking someone off wasn’t the most pleasant, but he would survive. He took a few drinks, as did Roger, and they both set their respective cups on the night stand.

“What time is it?” John asked as he laid down horizontally on the bed, not quite ready to fall asleep but tired enough to.

“Ehh, almost 11:46?” Roger checked his watch, laying down next to John.

John laughed, rubbing his face with his hands, “My parents told me not to stay out too late.”

“Really? Will you be okay to stay here then?” Roger asked, he kind of looked sad at the prospect of John leaving.

John moved his hands away from his face, smiling softly, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m turning eighteen in august anyways so it isn’t like they can control how I spend my time.” he thought about it for a second, enjoying Roger's pleased smile at the statement, “But my sister will definitely bug me about where I’ve been. She’s always looking for gossip.” John shook his head with a puff of laughter. Julie always liked to stick her nose into John’s business, he didn’t mind very much, she always encouraged him to be himself and do what he loved.

Roger chuckled, “How old is she?”

“Julie turned sixteen in March.”

Roger let out a low whistle, “I’m glad I don’t have a younger sister. I feel like she would always try to snoop around in my business.” taking a drag of his cigarette.

“Oh, you have no idea.”John groaned, causing Roger to laugh in response.

“You know, she actually has a crush on Freddie.”

“Does she really?” Roger asked with a smile.

“Genuinely.” John smiled back.

“God. That’s a mess she probably doesn’t want to get into.” Roger teased, although he was correct in his own right. Freddie was a bit of a mess. “I’m glad my brother never dug his nose into any of my business.” He stated with a little smile, a remembering look on his face. His eyes did that thing where they glazed over, like he was remembering something from the past.

John wasn’t really sure what to do. Maybe talking about whatever's bothering him is what Roger needs, “Where is he now?” John asked.

Roger sighed, a melancholic yet prideful look on his face, “An ocean away. Fighting for the army.”

“The army?” John showed his surprise, eyes wide.

“The army.” He shot John a prideful smile, he still seemed a bit lost but maybe remembering something a little happier, “They’re some tough blokes.”

“Definitely. Those soldiers are impressively strong. In more ways than one.” Roger gave him a serious nod.

There was a silence for a while, John had begun playing with one of the longer stands of Roger’s soft hair. Roger continued smoking, John resisted the urge to ask for a cigarette as well, it didn’t seem like the right time . Roger began searching John’s face for something. John didn’t know what. He could tell Roger wanted to say something though, shifting himself so they were face to face, close. He was trying to settle into a more comfortable position, with a thinking expression.

“I enlisted too, actually.”

John’s eyebrows shot up, “Really?”

“Yeah,” He closed his eyes, his hand moving up to his clothed chest, stroking at something, “I made it in too. The first division of marines. Went through boot camp and everything.” Roger opened his eyes, the blue piercing into John’s brown ones. “We were ordered to move from the US to New Zealand and wait for further instructions. Everyone was fresh from training and anticipating battle.” Roger propped himself with his elbow, playing with a loose string from the bedding and gazing off into space. “At first, we weren’t going to Guadalcanal, but plans changed. We shipped out on the last day of July, making it there nearly a week later.”

John was truly in awe. He had no idea Roger was a veteran. But this was also quite confusing. Roger should have still been enlisted for more than a year. He should have still been fighting with the marines, not spending his nights at hidden pubs and playing the piano. Not laying down with John and having genuine conversations.

Roger seemed to sense John’s confusion, giving him a weak smile. He sat up, took a deep breath, and unbuttoned his shirt all the way down, revealing flat metal plates along a metal chain. Dog tags. John sat up as well, curious as to if he would explain what happened, or if he was going to avoid his unspoken question.

Roger slipped his shirt off his right shoulder, showcasing a knotty scar about the size of a coin. It didn’t seem very old, still pink, but the skin had healed well. John stared in wonder at his shoulder. He wanted to touch it, to get a taste of the horror Roger had to have gone through to get something like that. He doubted Roger would welcome the intrusion very much though, so he kept his hands still, just observing in wide-eyed astonishment. John felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist, bringing it up to Roger’s shoulder. He let his fingers skim lightly over the scar, knowing it was fully healed by now, but scared to hurt him.

“I was shot sometime in December. They say it was a miracle they got me off that island as fast as they did. Even more so that it wasn’t infected. Which was a relief because it was hard enough as it was to avoid getting jungle rot.” John traced the scar with his thumb as Roger spoke. The fact that Roger was sharing this with John was _huge_. But he was glad. He felt trusted. Even though they had known each other for a few days, they had formed a deep connection. Getting to know someone like this was interesting and new and exciting. Nothing like anything John had ever had. 

“I was in a sling until late April. I genuinely didn’t know what to do with myself. On my first contact with war, I had been shot and injured and yet made it some safely.” He sighed heavily, like something was weighing him down, and frowned. “I felt guilty, like I got an out to survive the war.” John brought his hand from Roger’s shoulder down to link their hands together, giving it a squeeze of reassurance. “But then I realized that I got another chance to live, to realize a dream I had always wanted to chase. I had tried picking up the piano again. My mum had taught me how to play when I was little,” he smiled at the memory, “so I had stuck with it until I enrolled. But then again, I hadn’t practiced in a long time, my shoulder hurt like hell, but I pushed myself as hard as I could. I knew that if any of the other guys were in my shoes, or there with me, they would have told me to go for it.” Roger turned to John, making eye contact, “Because you form a special bond when you’re in combat. You go through hell with each other.” Roger grinned at him, almost shyly, “Now, here I am, and I don’t think I could have made a better choice.” he wiggled his eye brows, leaning in closer to John. John chuckled, resting his head on Roger’s previously injured shoulder, closing his eyes and humming. He didn’t think he was very good at comforting people, even more so when they had gone something as traumatic as getting _shot_. But then again, he had never _met_ someone who had been shot before. He was glad it was only Roger’s shoulder. If it Roger had been a few mere steps to the right, he probably wouldn’t be here right now with his arms draped lazily across John’s back. It was a weird thought, a sad thought. John buried his nose into the side of Roger’s neck, bringing them impossibly closer to try and chase the thought from his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys really want specifics, Roger was shot in December 1942, discharged, healed for 4 1/2 months, and his sling was taken off in late April. He added picking up piano again as a kind of physical therapy. My brain hurt after calculating that for the first time. I just... needed to make sure everything was good and matched up with the timeline lmao.
> 
> Chapter title is from "Smoke! Smoke! Smoke! (That Cigarette)" by Tex Williams, just because I thought it was funny. Plus I mean... it's kind of fitting?? Murder?? War?? Getting shot?? Yeah, I don't know either.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! If you want to see me gush about the 1940s/1950s or Queen or various other things, follow me on Tumblr! : Cooked_Rat


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